


unspoken

by the_night_owl1701



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Body Modification, Declarations Of Love, Episode: s07e08 Attached, F/M, First Contact, First Contact Gone Wrong, Light Angst, Mutual Pining, Telepathic Bond, hostile aliens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:19:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28679520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_night_owl1701/pseuds/the_night_owl1701
Summary: After escaping imprisonment on an alien world, Janeway and Chakotay find that their thoughts are connected by brain implants.Or, the J/C Attached AU no one asked for.
Relationships: Chakotay/Kathryn Janeway
Comments: 12
Kudos: 76





	unspoken

**Author's Note:**

> Written mostly because I was shocked that it hadn’t been written before (at least on AO3). 
> 
> Disclaimer: Voyager and its characters are not mine; I just enjoy throwing them into perilous situations together. 
> 
> Dedication: for literally every single fic author who wrote in 2020. Thank you.

“Energize.” 

Chakotay is elated as the transporter beam catches them; two days in the beautiful, secluded Jang Wa oasis in conference with the Zeloans, accompanied only by Kathryn, who has miraculously mellowed toward him since the Bajoran mind control incident which had nearly ended in a Maquis mutiny aboard _Voyager_. 

The sense of wonder leaves him as they materialize. 

Instead of the lush gardens of the ceremonial retreat, he is standing on cold stone in a dim prison. Kathryn rushes to the door, peers around the edges of the barred window, instinctively searching for any means of escape. 

He should’ve known it was too good to be true. 

#####

“Why would they detain us?” Kathryn asks, seated on the floor across from him.

He sighs. They've been talking in circles for what feels like hours. But so far, no amount of discussion with each other, or speaking to the camera mounted to the wall, or surveying the cell has led to any new information. 

The Zeloans had seemed like perfectly friendly people. Chakotay couldn’t imagine that whatever was going on was planned and executed by their government; at best guess, this had to be an attack from a rebellious faction of people. 

Before he could take the thought any further, there is a tremendous thumping outside, and the door clangs open. 

Kathryn is on her feet and flinging herself across the cell immediately. “What is the meaning of this?” she demands.

Their jailors do not respond. They work quickly, securing the door before either of them can slip out. 

The larger one steps menacingly towards the Captain, but Chakotay places himself firmly in front of her before he can get there.

“I don’t know what this is about,” he says, “but I’m sure we can find a peac—" There’s a stabbing sensation in his abdomen and he stumbles as ice trickles through his veins. 

He fights valiantly to stay upright and conscious, knowing he has to protect Kathryn, but his vision fades and it is too late.

#####

“—kotay. Chakotay!”

“Arg,” he moans, stirring, then jolting upright as he recalls where they are. 

“Are you alright?”

“I think so. Just a little nauseous.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know. They obviously took both of us somewhere, but I woke up back here a half hour ago and haven’t noticed anything new.”

She turns toward the door again, and metal glints at him from the base of her neck.

“Kathryn,” he warns, reaching up to point out the device’s location; his fingers meet with cool metal on his own body.

“What is it?” 

He moves to her, parting her hair for a better look.

“I’m not sure. Some sort of implant — it seems to be connected directly to the brainstem.”

She frowns. “For coercion?”

“Whatever it is, I doubt it was designed for our health,” Chakotay muses.

As he prods around the device on her neck, searching for any indication of its purpose, three guards wrench open the door.

They’re humanoid, wearing tight dark blue bodysuits, hoods up to shroud their eyes. Two are wielding clunky phase pistols, pointed threateningly at the Captain’s chest.

Kathryn faces them, fearless in her indignation. “What the hell is going on here?”

A guard shoves toward Chakotay with a spear, and he raises his hands placatingly. “If you tells us why you’ve taken us hostage, we might be able to—”

A high voice cuts him off sharply. “You are not hostages. You are prisoners.”

“On whose authority?” Kathryn demands.

“You are being held under the authority of the Kentavi Ministry on charges of conspiring with the enemy.”

“The enemy?” Chakotay wonders. He eyes the guard nearest to them warily as he waves a strange device in their direction, dialing in sequences and muttering under his breath.

“The Zaloans,” the guard shouts angrily. She contains herself, continuing snidely, “We are aware of your treacherous attempt to establish a military alliance with the Zaloans. It will not be tolerated.“

“There must be a misunderstanding,” Kathryn begins. “We have no plans to enter into any—”

“There is no point in trying to mislead us, Captain. The devices which have been implanted in your cerebral cortexes are being calibrated to your psi-wave patterns. Soon, we will be able to get all the information we need.” 

“Then you will discover that we are telling the truth,” Kathryn insists, but the guards are already exiting the cell. The last guard shoves them away from the cell door as he leaves. 

Chakotay reaches out to help his captain steady herself, but she waves him off. 

“There has to be a structural flaw that would allow us to escape,” she muses, running her hands over the cell walls. 

“Right,” he says. 

She must hear the uncertainty in his voice, because she spares a moment to reach out and place a hand on his chest as she crosses to the other end of the cell. 

“Chakotay,” she sighs, “the important thing during any confinement is to think positively and not give up hope. There is a way out of every box, a solution to every puzzle. It's just a matter of finding it.“

Through the barred opening on the door, he sees a guard approaching with a covered plate. Chakotay lines himself up to rush at the door as the guard retreats from delivering the food, but it snaps shut just before he gets there.

“Well, at least we won’t starve,” he says, as he retrieves the plate. 

“But it does mean they plan on keeping us here for a while.”

The meager dish makes him skeptical about exactly how much their captors care about their survival. “I’m beginning to think negatively, Kathryn.” 

The thoughts retreat as soon as Kathryn lifts the cover to the welcome sight of a Starfleet-issue tricorder, but they’re not out of the woods yet. 

“Does it work?”

She grasps it tightly, looking much more comfortable with the technology in her hands. “Yes. And,” she navigates through the storage menus, “a map’s been added to the main directory.”

He peers at it over her shoulder and sees an escape route clearly marked on the screen. “That guard must be working for the Zeloans.”

She glances up at him. “Or, this is all some sort of trap.”

“Either way, our chances are better out there. Can you open the door?”

She pulls up the code on the tricorder and the cell clicks open. After peering out cautiously, they file out into the empty, echoing hallways.

#####

Kathryn heads up their escape, pausing every so often to consult the map. In the half hour since it was delivered, they’ve made their way through the caves, narrowly missing the erupting gas caused by the lava below them. His throat grows drier by the minute in the heat of the underground chambers. 

Chakotay almost rams into Kathryn when she stops. She peers at the map intently; ahead of her, he notices that the tunnel is obstructed by fallen rock. 

“Maybe we took a wrong turn?”

They double back, and he feels scorching heat as they move closer to the lava again. 

**_I’m so thirsty._ **

“So am I,” he says softly.

Kathryn considers him suspiciously. “What?”

He stops walking. “I’m thirsty too.”

“I didn't say anything about being thirsty.”

“I heard you. You said, ‘I’m so thirsty.’”

“I was thinking about it, but I didn't say anything.” She tilts her head, considering, then snaps her fingers. “The transceivers. That guard — she said the devices would align themselves to our psi-wave patterns. The implants must be transmitting our thoughts.”

Chakotay winces internally. _That sounds… potentially hazardous._

He turns to face her. “Okay, then what am I thinking?”

She frowns for a moment, concentrating, then concludes, “I don’t know.”

_Thank the Spirits. Can I still hear her thoughts?_

He tries, but can’t sense anything. “Maybe it was a fluke.”

“We have more immediate concerns right now, anyways.” She drags a finger along the map. “This ledge, thirty meters up, leads to a tunnel that connects to the surface.”

“Alright,” he says, taking in the steep cliff apprehensively. 

A memory hurtles into his mind - the rush of wind as he plummets, Mike Ayala’s horror-struck face as he reaches to catch him just a moment too late, the crack of his arm breaking as he attempts to break his fall. 

She regards him with dawning comprehension. “I heard that. Not words exactly, just a sudden sense of fear. A sense of fear of heights.”

Chakotay groans, focusing on the much more inviting ground as though it holds the secrets of the universe. “So much for it being a fluke.”

Kathryn is as caught off guard as he is. “Such a strange sensation, having someone else’s thoughts appear in my mind.”

“If you sensed a fear of heights, you sensed pretty accurately.”

She pats his shoulder and reassures him, “You’ve done this before! It’s just like on the holodeck; one step at a time, climbing slowly and steadily.”

He smiles at her gratefully. The warmth from her sincere support melts the icy shard of fear in his heart, and they get ready to climb.

#####

The ledge wasn’t as difficult to reach as he had feared. With Kathryn as his guide, he reached the top quickly, and soon they are stepping out of the darkness into the countryside. 

The sloping hills and wildflowers remind him of the meadow on Trebus where he used to hunt for mushrooms with his sister to make his favorite mushroom soup. His stomach twinges at the thought of fresh food.

“One of us is hungry,” Kathryn remarks.

“That would be me.”

“Do you mind thinking of something else? You’re making _me_ hungry.”

Chakotay huffs. “What do you want me to think about?”

“Anything other than a large bowl of mushroom soup.”

“My sister and I used to make it, with garlic, and cheese, and—”

“Chakotay!”

“I’m sorry,” he concedes aloud. 

_But you_ are _being unreasonable. I can’t control what I’m thinking every second of the day!_

“I am _not_ being unreasonable,” Kathryn snaps.

Chakotay sighs. _Of course she’d heard that._ “I didn’t say you were, I thought it. There’s a difference,” he points out deftly. 

“You're right. We can't react to every random thought that crosses the other person's mind.” Her anger deflates and she continues to pick down the slope as he sticks by her side. 

“It’s amazing, though, how much clutter there is in a consciousness. Odd memories coming to the surface. Bits of half-remembered songs...” Kathryn observes.

“...stray daydreams, scattered minutiae,” Chakotay finishes. “I wonder how true telepaths sift through it all. How do they get to what someone’s really thinking when the mind is constantly churning?” 

**_Hmmm churning… You know what I could really go for? Some leola root stew._ **

Chakotay glares at her, perturbed. “That’s not funny.”

“I just wanted to see if you were still listening.”

“I think our link is getting stronger.”

“Maybe if we put some distance between us, that might weaken it. Not that I'm growing tired of hearing your most intimate thoughts.” She turns and walks a couple paces away from him.

His stomach roils and he starts to feel lightheaded. Kathryn gasps and doubles over, clutching her stomach. 

“What’s happening?” he grinds out, moving back to her in concern. 

“I felt a wave of nausea.”

“Me too.”

She performs a basic scan on her tricorder. “There’s nothing wrong with either of us. Maybe the air is toxic.”

She moves away from him to scan the atmosphere, and he’s hit by another wave of agony. She notices, and when she comes back to him, it disappears.

“The same thing again,” he wonders aloud. ”It seems as if we’re stuck with each other.”

He feels Kathryn’s agreement settle into his mind. 

They continue walking, side by side.

#####

At dusk, they cross from the countryside to a secluded forest and decide to make camp. This time, Chakotay knows better than to attempt to get a fire going, so he searches for edible vegetation while Kathryn does it.

He returns to see her stoking a roaring fire, hair down in preparation for getting some rest. 

“I’m beginning to think there’s not a single thing on this planet we can eat,” Chakotay moans as he approaches the fire. 

“Well, by this time tomorrow, we should be back on _Voyager_ , and we can plant ourselves in front of the replicator for a nice dinner.”

An image of their burnt meal from last week arises, causing Chakotay to cringe inwardly. 

She starts. “You hate having dinner with me.”

“That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is. When I said breakfast, I heard you say, I hate that. “

“That's not exactly what I meant.”

She hums derisively. “Well, then what did you mean?”

He sits back and tries to figure out how to approach this kindly. “I enjoy having dinner with you. It’s nice to talk off duty and have some time to relax together. It's just that I don't like…”

“...how we’ve been eating recently,” Kathryn concludes thoughtfully. 

He smiles, relieved. “Yes! Lately, it seems like we spend more time figuring out how to reassemble the replicator, or improvising a quick sandwich, than we do actually eating. I’d prefer to cook our meals myself so we can have more time to talk.” 

“Well why didn't you just say so?” She radiates incredulousness at him through their bond, with the slightest tinge of relief. 

He ducks his head sheepishly. “I didn't think it was important. But you don't like those replicated meals, either?”

“Well, I certainly don’t enjoy fighting with the replicator every week,” she snorts. “I guess it’s homecooked dinners for both of us from now on.”

He hums, staring into the fire. The dancing flames create shadows in the dark forest, reminding him of his early camping trips. Sitting around the warmth of the fire was always the one enjoyable part about being forced on one of his father’s quests. 

“I love firelight,” they say together.

Kathryn smiles at him. “There's something about the flame, the smell of the smoke. It's always seemed to me to be intoxicating, somehow.”

Chakotay grins back. “I agree completely. In fact, when Seven and I went on a camping trip on the holodeck last week, to enhance her survival skills, I told her—”

A wave of emotion washes over him suddenly; Kathryn attempts to tamp it down once she notices she has his attention. 

“What? I heard you, don’t push it away. When I said ‘Seven and I,’ I felt this sudden wave of pain.”

He tries to look at her but she turns away, unable to meet his eyes. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”

“There was an attraction between us from the start,” she says quietly.

“But I never knew how strongly you felt. Why didn't you ever tell me you were in love with me?”

“I couldn’t,” she says simply. 

He hears her reciting the regulation in her mind, as practiced as a line from a favorite holo that had been looped endlessly.

**_Starfleet Regulation 520A: A senior officer may not engage a lower-ranked officer in a relationship due to the imbalance of rank. A relationship between senior officers requires a clear declaration of intent and consent by both officers to be recognized and permitted by Starfleet._ **

“After New Earth… I promised myself that I would never tell you how I felt. It would be a betrayal of my duty to the crew and to Starfleet.”

Chakotay wants to discuss this revelation more, but Kathryn seems resolved in her belief that this isn’t something they should pursue, so he lets it go. 

“Well, we still have a lot of ground to cover tomorrow. We should get some sleep.”

“Right.”

He takes his jacket and folds it into a makeshift pillow, lying down by the fire facing away from Kathryn. He listens to the rustle of the leaves as she settles in, and closes his eyes, trying to calm his racing thoughts.

Kathryn’s mind is similarly wild, which isn’t making it any easier for him to fall asleep. Her emotions — quiet despair, stinging rejection, and burning desire — pound insistently at his head.

Chakotay, on the other hand, doesn’t know _what_ to feel. He’s pleased to find out that he hasn’t been imaging the strength of the bond between them, but mostly so very confused.

As he lies awake, conflicted, Kathryn begins to dream. 

In contrast to her thoughts, her dreams are almost eerily peaceful. Through her eyes, he sees a handbuilt log cabin, a wooden dock extending into the lake behind it. 

A man approaches Kathryn, who is reading in a hammock by the water’s edge, with a dog tumbling around at his heels. Chakotay can’t see who it is, but he feels a sweet, full sort of contentment rise within Kathryn at the sight. 

The man throws a ball for the dog and laughs when she forgets to bring it back. Kathryn stands up, picking up the toy and moving toward them, and Chakotay gets a clear view of the man’s face.

It’s _him_.

The dream Kathryn hands him the ball and kisses him deeply, and the dream fades out. 

Chakotay does not fall asleep for several more hours.

#####

They start walking again as soon as the sun breaks the horizon, both anxious to reach _Voyager_.

When they crest the small hill overlooking the forest, Chakotay can just see the shimmering force field of the Kentavi-Zeloan border above the next ridge. 

Unfortunately, it does not appear as though the path to it will be easy; he pulls Kathryn behind a tree, pointing out the looming figures of two soldiers creeping toward them. 

He gestures for her to run, following as close as he can. The soldiers point their weapons and fire, once, twice— 

**_Chakotay!_ **

He stumbles. _I’m all right, GO!_

Pressing a hand to his wounded shoulder, he pushes her forward, and they break frantically for the border.

Kathryn brings a finger closer to the field tentatively, and the air sizzles. 

_Multiphasic shielding?_

She nods. **_I’ll need to weaken it with a multiphasic pulse to get us through._ **

He moves to shield her bodily as she works on the tricorder; over the ridge, reinforcements have arrived and are picking their way ever closer. 

Chakotay tenses. _HURRY!_

**_I’m working as fast as I can!_ **

She blasts the field with her tricorder and a hole begins to open, widening gradually. Chakotay looks back; the soldiers are closing in fast.

One lifts a weapon, pointing it directly at Chakotay’s chest. 

Before he can react, Kathryn leaps at him, propelling them both through the barrier. Through the link, he receives a flare of pain as the shot goes through her side. 

_Kathryn!_

They come to a stop in the grass, Kathryn’s body sprawled over his. He scrambles to his feet and helps her up, turning to examine the border.

The force field has sealed behind them; the soldiers grimace and speak into their communicators irately. 

_We need to move, now._

She nods wearily, and starts to walk, tucked into his side; though she hides the pain from her face, her mind screams with it on each step they take.

He scoops Kathryn up into his arms, ignoring the stab of pain from his shoulder, and stumbles toward the rendezvous point marked on the map — a tavern in the closest village to the border.

It only takes fifteen minutes of walking to reach the tavern, but it feels like hours; he can feel Kathryn’s consciousness drifting during every second of the agonizing onslaught.

Chakotay yells for help as soon as they cross the tavern’s threshold, laying Kathryn down gently in a seat and scanning her. The Zeloans put down their food and hustle toward them, offering water and medicines to clean their wounds. 

Unfortunately, according to the tricorder, the care available on Zeloakenta won’t be enough to help Kathryn; she needs to see the Doctor right away. 

“We have to get back to our ship. Is there a shuttle bay nearby?”

The barkeeper winces. “The nearest transport station is many paces away.”

Chakotay tries to move Kathryn, but one of the Zeloans stops him. “The wound will need to be dressed before she can travel. I can do it.”

He nods and waits while the medic wraps Kathryn’s side tightly in white cloth, reassuring her though their bond that she will be well soon. 

The Zeloan medic helps him carry Kathryn to the station, and they load her into a shuttle carefully. She groans as the primitive shuttle shakes at low impulse, and Chakotay comforts her, demanding that she stay awake.

The moment their shuttle is within comm range of _Voyager_ , Chakotay smacks his combadge. “Chakotay to the Doctor, meet us at the shuttle bay.”

“On my way, Commander.”

#####

Chakotay stands when the Doctor enters his office. 

“How is she?”

The EMH doesn’t seem surprised to see him there. “She’ll be fine, Commander. I’ve cleaned the wound and repaired the damage to her digestive system and musculature. With some sleep and a proper meal, she’ll be right as rain.”

Chakotay exhales roughly. “Thank you. And have you looked into removing our implants?”

“Yes. It should be a simple operation, but I’d like to wait until the Captain has rested before performing it.”

“Can I see her?” he asks, already moving towards the biobeds. 

The Doctor nods, then turns to updating the Captain’s medical records. 

Chakotay goes to Kathryn’s bedside, moving carefully to avoid waking her. Her chest rises rhythmically with even breaths, and some of the color has returned to her cheeks.

The sight is reassuring, but as always, he can’t help but think of how close he came to losing her. The lack of noise from her mind through the bond only makes his distress worse; he misses the warmth of her mind touching his, a reassuring reminder that they are alive and together.

He grasps her fingers gently and sits down next to her, not quite ready to return to his empty cabin.

They’ve always clung to the same dance; Kathryn flirts, he returns her attention, then she withdraws, unwilling to take it any further. The longing hits him the hardest whenever he waits at her side in Sickbay, praying that she will open her beautiful blue eyes once more. 

Chakotay lets out a melancholy sigh as he stares at the combadge shining on her chest. If it wasn’t for the ridiculous Starfleet regulations, he could touch her, kiss her when she wakes, walk through the corridors without concealing how he feels every moment of the day. 

Then again, if it wasn’t for Starfleet, they would never have met in the first place. 

Kathryn’s earlier thoughts drift into his mind like sunlight filtering through a forest canopy, filling in the gap of what had remained unsaid. 

_A senior officer may not engage a lower-ranked officer in a relationship due to the imbalance of rank._

_Oh._

#####

Chakotay groans and opens his eyes to the harsh light of Sickbay.

On the bed, Kathryn is sitting up, watching him silently. Her hair is mussed, and her uniform is badly torn and stained with blood. Fresh bandages are wrapped around her torso.

She smiles wryly at him. “You look like hell.” 

“Thanks,” he returns, swiping a hand through his hair. His whole body floods with relief at the sight of her, alive and back to teasing him. 

He shifts in his seat and hears the alarming noises of his back protesting a night in Sickbay. 

The memories from the past few days crowd his mind — Kathryn’s subconscious confession pulsing through their bond, the joyful image of Chakotay playing with her dog at their cabin in her dreams, her steadfast courage in saving his life, the color of her blood on his skin as he carries her toward the village.

The weight of what had remained unspoken presses against him, suffocating the embers of the excuses that have kept them apart. 

He knows they have wasted far too much time. 

Kathryn must notice the odd expression on his face, because she prods his thigh gently with her foot. “Is everything alright, Chakotay?”

“Actually… I was hoping you could answer something for me.”

She nods. “Anything.”

“It’s been brought to my attention that perhaps I wasn’t as clear before as I should have been.”

He holds out his hands, and she places hers within them without question.

Chakotay opens and closes his mouth, struggling to put words to how he feels for her. 

Deciding words simply aren’t going to cut it, he closes his eyes and focuses on the ball of affection, trust, and respect that rests in his heart, pushing it toward her.

When she squeezes his hand in acknowledgement, he projects one final image to her: the two of them, kissing passionately.

It’s impossible to know who leans in first, but the moment their lips touch, Chakotay is awash in a sea of bliss. He cups her chin and wraps his arm around her gently, taking care not to disturb her wounds, as the current of their devotion arcs between their minds like lightning. 

He’s really going to miss their attachment when the implants are removed.

They break the kiss, but Chakotay isn’t quite satisfied. The love within him begs to be brought into the light. 

“Be with me?” he whispers into her hair.

She laughs wetly. “Yes.”

Hugging her close, he surreptitiously checks where the Doctor is. If he sees this, they’ll never hear the end of it.

He doesn’t think to check the entrance to Sickbay, where Tom is arriving for his shift. 

By evening, _Voyager_ ’s longest running betting pool is finally closed. 

#####

The Doctor performs their implant removal surgeries the next day, and that evening, Chakotay enters Kathryn’s quarters at 1900, balancing a bottle of Antarian cider and two portions of fresh fettuccini alfredo in his arms.

They eat quickly, still ravenous from their Zeloakentan escape.

Twilling the last forkful of pasta together, Kathryn exclaims, “That was wonderful!” 

“My pleasure,” he winks. 

They move their glasses to the couch, and Kathryn clasps his hand in hers, the movement as natural as breathing. 

Chakotay stares into the stars by her side. 

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“I was thinking of all the time we could have had together, had I been more familiar with Starfleet regulations. If it wasn’t for those cognitive implants...”

“...we may never have altered our parameters,” she finishes. 

She grins and tugs him down toward her on the couch. 

“Perhaps I could give you a refresher.”


End file.
